


As Does Pain

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: The Kennerya Trilogy [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fever, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Has Abandonment Issues, Pack Instincts, Platonic Cuddling, Sick Keith (Voltron), Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 17:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15953936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: A few days after the attack in the Nelethe palace, Keith is still struggling to recover from the kennerya venom. But the road to recovery is much bumpier than it looks.





	As Does Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Ok this part is probably my favorite one out of the three so I hope y'all enjoy.

After compiling all possible evidence and analyzing all available variables, Pidge has come to the definitive conclusion that space, in general, sucks. It had been three days since the disaster at the Nelethe palace, and since then the paladins lives had revolved around the lounge and the nest they had built there. Coran had run a flurry of tests, eventually determining that the concentrated version of kennerya venom Keith had been dosed with would take about three times as long to heal as a normal bite-- approximately three weeks. 

This was a problem. 

As hard as Shiro and Allura tried to keep their frenzied whispers hidden from the rest of the paladins, they couldn’t keep out common sense. Three weeks was a long time. Voltron (or at least a few lions) would be needed before Keith was fully healed. 

That was how Pidge found herself being woken in the middle of the night cycle by a light footed Allura, prodding each of them awake with great care. She probably didn’t need to, considering that Coran had given Keith something to help him sleep through the constant dull ache of the venom, but the thought was nice. 

“Paladins,” She whispered urgently as they roused themselves, rubbing bleary eyes and stretching cramped limbs. “There’s a large Galra force gathering in Sector 2437. We’ll need as many lions as possible. I can open a wormhole for you, but you must hurry.”

“What about Keith?” Even after almost twelve hours of sleep, Shiro was immediately up and alert, though not budging from his spot in the cuddle pile yet. “He can’t fly yet.”

He could say that again. Keith had begun getting squirmy practically the moment the drug he’d been given had worn off, only the fact of crippling pain keeping him in the nest. Of course, that didn’t stop him from  _ trying _ . Twice already the stupid boy had tried to creep off to be alone and practically knocked himself unconscious from the sudden spike of the venom. 

“Coran and I will stay with him.” Allura hissed back, just as the orange-haired Altean in question popped into the room. “But the rest of you need to get moving.”

Pidge, along with the other paladins, followed orders-- but not without exchanging looks full of trepidation as Coran settled down next to the still sleeping Keith and Allura rushed off to the bridge to open the wormhole. 

Allura had told them what Kolivan said.  _ Kennerya venom has been known to cause feelings of abandonment, especially amongst Galra.  _ Adding insult to injury was the fact that Keith’s Galra side apparently considered them to be his pack, or something, and if he woke up while they were all gone…

“It’ll be fine, guys.” Said Shiro once they were out of earshot. “We just need to get this done quickly.”

Pidge took a deep breath and forced her brain into battle mode. Shiro was right. They just had to focus, and then they could get back before anything went wrong. 

_ Come on, Pidge. Focus.  _

* * *

When Keith finally forced himself awake, everything was hazy, as was normal after being dosed with one of Coran’s sedatives. Despite the drug-induced confusion, he immediately knew something was wrong. The pain was worse than when he’d gone to sleep-- pushing past the ache and stepping into burning territory. That didn’t make sense. As long as the others were here the venom remained little more than an ache in his bones, as though he’d been on the training deck one hour too many. This wasn’t right. 

His fingers searched to the sides as he stared at the white blur that was the ceiling, only for his heart rate to pick up when he felt nothing but cold blankets. When he’d gone to sleep he was surrounded by the other paladins, warmth radiating from all sides. Now not only were they gone, but they’d apparently been gone for quite some time, and he hadn’t noticed. 

A confused chirp found its way out of him before he could stop it, and even through the confusing side effects of the Space Nyquil Keith could feel his face flush. Despite the others insistence that it was fine and not weird at all, he was still mortified to learn that they’d heard him making such weird noises, and  _ horrified  _ when Shiro said he’d known about them for years. 

Old habits die hard, and ever since the first night he’d woken up purring he’d been repressing any further noises, the way he had been his whole life. Until now, apparently, when his body decided to act without his consent. 

“There, there, my boy.” Said an accented voice above him, a white gloved hand dropping to pat his head. The person was sitting next to him on the floor, leg pressed against the side of Keith’s torso. “They’ll be back soon, don’t fret.” 

He knew the voice, but… it wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t an expected one, and the gloved hand was all wrong. None of the ones he knew wore gloves, and the fingers just sat awkwardly over his hair instead of running through it the way the others knew he liked. His eyelids sagged-- apparently the Space Nyquil wasn’t out of his system yet-- but he wouldn’t let himself give in yet. The others weren’t here, it wasn’t safe to fall asleep or let his guard down. The flames under his skin flared hotter. 

He let out another chirp without thinking. The others would hear him, realize he was awake, and come back… wouldn’t they?

“No need for any of that.” God, he hated that voice. That stupid voice that he recognized but couldn’t place, the one that didn’t fit here. 

He listened, but heard nothing. No footsteps, no sounds, no nothing to indicate the return of the others. This time he let out a plaintive, longing whine and was too wrapped up in his missing teammates to panic over it. Nothing, no response. 

Suddenly tears were stinging his eyes and the flames were turning into needles, shoving clear through his skin and gouging into his bones, threatening to make them crack. Somewhere in his fuzzy brain he recognized this wasn’t logical, that it was just the venom or the Space Nyquil making things seem worse than they were, but something tight and painful was coiling in his chest like that night in the closet when he’d torn the collar off of his shirt. 

The others weren’t here, and they didn’t come back when he called. Why? Surely they weren’t hurt, the Castle seemed fine and they were paladins, they could handle themselves. Had they left him willingly? What had he done wrong? Had his strange noises scared them off? Were they annoyed by him clinging to them for relief from the pain? Had they decided he was useless to them like this and decided to get a new Red Paladin? Was he just too Galra for them?

He realized too late the tears had escaped his eyes and were rolling down his cheeks. He rolled onto his side, coiling into a ball and trying to hide his weakness from the person sitting beside him, but they followed, resting one hand on his arm and the other on his back. They rubbed gentle, soft circles that kept the pain from passing the eight out of ten threshold, but it did nothing to soothe his turbulent emotions. 

To his chemical addled brain the answer was clear. He’d done something wrong, revealed how much of a freak he really was, and he’d been abandoned. Again. And God, it was probably his own fault if he was stupid enough to expose his back to someone he wasn’t sure he could trust and weak enough to start bawling like this, but it still hurt. He couldn’t stop the noises now, his Galra heritage making itself very obvious in the whimpers that were pouring out of him, still trying though in vain to entice his missing friends to return to him. 

Friends? Family? None of those words fit. They were closer than that, but he didn’t know what it was supposed to be. 

“Keith? Now, now, Number Four, do calm down. The others will be back in a tick, they’re only on a brief mission--”

Keith lashed out at the voice, at the hands touching him that didn’t belong to his… whatever it was meant to be called. His wrists were caught and easily held, which of course only served to upset him further. He’d been abandoned, left alone and in pain and weak, at the mercy of whoever had invaded their nest. Left behind. 

_ Victory or death. Knowledge or death. Those who cannot fight and earn their keep will be culled. _

He’d left off whimpering and was now growling at the hands that held him pinned, kicking and struggling. But they were stronger than him and he was still hazy from the sedative and his body was fighting to curl in on itself from the pain. He wouldn’t be getting away anytime soon. Eventually he slumped in the hold, growls cutting off as silent tears still fought their way out. 

“Allura,” The voice above him said, presumably into a comm. “I think we have a bit of a situation.” He paused as though to listen before continuing. “I don’t think Keith considers you or I part of his pack.”

Keith stirred a bit at the word. Pack. Is that what he and the others were? It clicked the way family didn’t, even if it was a little strange to be using animal terminology. 

“Will do, Princess.” 

Keith kept waiting for something to happen. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for; his conscious mind was struggling to make sense of the situation. He knew this voice, that gentle tone, he knew this person, so why was he panicking? But his Galra side wouldn’t hear any of it-- it was running the same frantic message on a loop.  _ Pack gone danger left behind danger threat in the nest danger danger danger.  _

It felt like eons before anything actually did happen. Half a dozen times he almost falls asleep but yanks himself back from the precipice at the last minute. Even with the needles gouging at him and sapping every bit of energy he has, he can’t let himself be defenseless. Not while there’s an enemy in his nest, waiting for the slightest bit of weakness to show through before he strikes. 

Then there’s noise, a clamor of feet in the hallway outside. Normally Keith would’ve known it was the other paladins. Now all he can think is that it’s more enemies, and he curls into the tiniest ball he can manage. He can’t fight right now, not with the venom practically incapacitating him, so his next best option is to hide. 

There’s a hiss as the door to the lounge slides open. 

“Paladins!” Says the accented voice, full of relief. “Thank Alfor. Our poor Red Paladin here is quite upset.”

Almost instantly there was another form next to him, hands on his shoulders and pulling him up, one warm and one cool like metal. 

“Keith?” He could cry-- he knows that voice, it belongs to the pack, they’d come back for him. He keens, happy and disbelieving, clinging to the person like his life depended on it. The warm hand rose to his hair to thread between the strands and suddenly things are clicking back into place. 

“‘Kashi?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

This time he does cry, a choked sob that burns his throat on the way out, and barely a moment later he’s surrounded on all sides by bodies. But it’s alright, because he knows these people, this is his pack. They came back for him and now they were here, pressing close around him in a group hug. The needles recede, retreating back into the ache he’d become so accustomed to, and he goes slack in Shiro’s arms. 

“Damn it.” Swears a new voice-- Pidge, names are fitting again as the venom is forced back. “I knew this would happen. Kolivan  _ said  _ this would happen.”

“We had to go Pidge.” Lance muttered, though he sounded distraught. “That fleet was hard enough with all four of us.”

“Besides, we didn’t know if Coran would be able to keep him calm or not. Guess we do now.” That voice belonged to Hunk. 

Check. Check. Check. Check. The whole pack was here. He was safe now. 

_ Shit. Coran. _

“Wait, Coran?” He raised his head from Shiro’s shoulder, finding the Altean standing near the back of the group, near the door. “I’m sorry.” He wanted to say more, much more, but his words still weren’t quite cooperating. 

Coran’s eyes softened. “Not your fault, lad.” Keith leans his head back down with a sigh. 

“What happened, Keith?” Shiro asked gently, the tone helping Keith relax just that little bit more. He feels a pleased rumble beginning in his chest and suppresses it as quickly as possible. He’d embarrassed himself enough, thanks. 

“Nothing.” He mumbled into Shiro’s chest. “It was stupid.”

Shiro gave a disapproving tsk and shifted the entire pile back to their previous position; laying back on the pile of soft materials with all of them organized around Keith. Shiro always took the place on Keith’s right side. This time Lance took his left, pulling Keith’s back flush to his chest. Pidge sprawled herself across their legs with one hand tangled with one of Keith’s, Hunk at the bottom with Keith’s feet resting in his lap as he toyed with the hem of the red paladin pajamas. 

“Tell us anyway.”

Keith squirmed until his face was hidden, hot shame making him flush the color of his lion. He felt utterly ridiculous and all he’d like to do is find somewhere quiet to be alone until he could get over all the weird emotions. Until he felt like he could show his face in front of the others. But he couldn’t. This time there was no hiding. 

“I was just… confused when I woke up. Thought you guys left.”

Lance, bless him, didn’t get it. “Well, we did leave. For a mission.”

“No, I meant left left. Like… permanently.”

He feels Lance still against his back, feels his chest compress as he sucks in a sharp inhale. 

“Oh. Right.”

“Kolivan said that the venom might make you feel like that.” Shiro interjected, taking control of the situation once more. “We should’ve considered the situation more carefully before we all rushed off.”

Keith shook his head. He didn’t want to blame the others when he was the one who freaked out over nothing. 

“Just no more Space Nyquil, please.”

* * *

Pidge is devastated. She lies awake long after the others that night, throat tight and eyes stinging. Some time ago she’d replaced Lance at Keith’s side, and now she pressed her face between his shoulder blades, trying not to let the tears out. She knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really, but she couldn’t help it. 

He’’d been making those awful sounds again. Those terrible, sad, longing sounds that made her feel like her heart was being torn into shreds. They should’ve known-- Kolivan had warned them about the venom and they’d left anyway, left Keith to think he’d been abandoned. 

God, what kind of friends were they?

Something nudges her foot. “Pidgeon, knock it off, I can’t sleep with you thinking so loudly.”

“Sorry Lance.” She sniffles right after her statement, and in the darkness she sees Lance’s shadow sit up. 

“Woah, are you ok?”

“Not really.” She admitted, swallowing hard. “I just… feel guilty, I guess.”

“We all do. But you know it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but--” Her voice breaks on a sob. Before Lance could move forward to comfort her, Keith is already rolling over to face her. Seemingly still asleep, he tossed an arm over her small torso and holds her close. A rumble rose in his chest; different from the purring from a few days ago, deeper, with some sort of intent behind it. It wasn’t a response to being comforted-- rather is was an attempt at comfort. 

“Aw, he’s trying to make you feel better.” Lance cooed, and Pidge sniffled to herself again with a watery smile. Keith’s chest heaved once, twice, and then he rumbled again, apparently expecting some sort of response. Pidge squeezed him tightly, and after a moment the rumble ceased. Keith settled down, head resting on top of Pidge’s as he slept. 

Pidge still felt guilty. But maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

She didn’t mention the event to Keith when they wake up the next morning, and neither does Lance. They were more than aware of how self conscious he was about his Galra side, especially the sounds, and the last thing they want is for him to be stressing over it while he’s trying to recover. The events of the day before had already aggravated the venom enough, sending it spider webbing up higher than it had been even when he’d first been attacked. The black veins now reached under his jaw, a sign of how badly he’d been affected by the venom when they’d left. Pidge never wants to do it again.

Two days later, Allura asks them to do just that. 

She looks apologetic enough, wringing her clasped hands and looking everywhere but at Keith as she outlines the situation.

“It’s a fleet of small, fast moving jets-- it shouldn’t take long to dispatch. The Red Lion would of course be the most efficient, but--”

“But we’re not doing that.” Shiro interrupted, shooting a chastising look at Keith who was already trying to sit up. “The rest of us can handle it just fine.”

“I’ll stay.” Said Hunk, waving a hand slightly nervously. “Yellow is the slowest, we’d probably only be in the way.”

Everyone exchanged tense looks over Keith’s head. He didn’t look pleased with anything he’d just heard, but he didn’t argue. He merely clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling, and Pidge isn’t sure if he’s angry at them for leaving or angry at the fact that he couldn’t go. Probably the latter, but acidic guilt still roils in her stomach. 

“Come on, guys.” Shiro looks just as tired and upset as everyone else. “The sooner we do this the sooner we get back.”

* * *

Keith isn’t sure which is worse: waking up to the team being gone, or watching them walk away. He knows it’s just a mission, he knows they’re coming right back, he  _ knows that _ , but the image stings badly of the vision he’d had during his Blade trials and it makes something dark and sad coil in his chest. So he rolls over, turns his back to the door and faces into Hunk’s chest instead. 

It’s better with Hunk here. The Yellow Paladin is steady, familiar, and grounding in a way Coran hadn’t been able to manage. Still without everyone there the pain refuses to remain in it’s ache. Keith tries not to be obvious about it, just curls quietly into a ball and bites his tongue. Hunk rubs his back and he melts.

“I know it hurts.” He says in his best soothing tone. Not as good as Shiro’s, but a close second. “The others will be back soon.”

At least he’s not high on Space Nyquil this time. 

* * *

The mission is taking longer than it should have, and Hunk is getting more and more anxious by the dobosh. Keith managed to fall into a restless sleep about a varga ago, but judging by his scrunched up expression and jerky limbs it’s not doing much good. The more Hunk studies the black veins on the side of his neck and how he reacted to the loss of his pack, the more he thinks that something else is going on beyond just kennerya poisoning. It’s been a week and a half, Keith should’ve been at least able to leave the cuddle pile by now, but the tendrils of poison were receding painfully slowly and grasped any opportunity to race back to their previous positions. 

Hunk is broken from his reverie when Keith jolts again, his head lolling from side to side as he murmurs something. At first he’s too quiet for Hunk to hear, but the next time is louder.

“Shiro…”

Hunk grimaces to himself and holds Keith just that little bit closer. He’s tempted to reach out of the nest for one of the tablets and request a status update from Allura, but that would mean letting go of Keith and he doesn’t even want to think about how he’d react to that. 

“Shiro… no… please…”

_ Come on, guys, hurry up. _

Keith twitches, throws his head to the side to face away from Hunk, and with alarm he notices how the poison has begun to curl over his jaw again, crawling for his cheekbone right before his eyes. 

“‘Kashi… don’t!”

Every muscle in Keith’s body coils tight like a spring, and with a sudden howl he arches up from the floor. Hunk scrambles to keep his grip on the red paladin, heart thudding deafeningly in his ears. Something was wrong, very very wrong, and he had no clue how to fix it. All he can do is hang on and pray his touch is enough to keep Keith from dying right then. 

“Come back, Kashi, please--” He’s sobbing now, tears leaking from his eyes and soaking into the fabric beneath them. 

“Keith, Keith, come on, wake up.” Hunk shakes him slightly, trying to awaken him from whatever nightmare had him panicking. At first it does nothing, but another harsh jostle has Keith’s eyes springing open, still flooded with hot tears. “Shiro?” His breath heaves in his chest, and not knowing what else to do, Hunk just pulls him close. 

“It’s ok, Keith. It’s ok.”

“Hunk?” At least he still knew who he was. At least he was still talking instead of letting out those tear jerking sounds. All in all, it could be so much worse. 

“Yeah buddy, it’s me. You’re alright.”

Keith doesn’t even give himself a minute to calm down before he’s stuttering out apologies, even as he curls his fingers into Hunks shirt like tiny vices, and Hunk feels like crying himself. 

“It’s alright. Take a deep breath, bud. I’m not angry with you.”

Keith shuddered. “God, this fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, it really does, doesn’t it?” Hunk answered, rubbing warm circles into Keith’s back as he spoke. “I could see the venom moving up your face. It kinda freaked me out.”

Unhooking his fingers from the fabric he’d been clutching, Keith moved them up to his cheek where the black veins had been advancing. “How high are they?”

“About halfway to your cheekbone.”

Keith swore under his breath, and while Hunk himself usually didn’t swear, this time he couldn’t help but agree. The venom took so long to recede, and nearly no time at all to attack. If they kept going the way they had been, Keith would be sick for far longer than they’d first expected. 

Keith quickly wiped the tears from his face before returning to his previous position cuddled against Hunk. The tension remaining in his muscles gave away how much pain he was still in, but as always he soldiered on. Silence falls between them. Hunk doesn’t ask what he was dreaming about (it was pretty obvious), and Keith seems focused on ignoring the pain and keeping himself from falling asleep again. 

Both of them breathe sighs of relief when the door slides open to reveal the other three paladins, already changed and out of their armor. They all settled down around them quickly, tired from their battle, and Keith rolled out of Hunk’s arms in favor of embracing Shiro. 

The Black Paladin frowned, studying Keith’s face carefully. 

“Is it just me, or are these higher than they were before?”

Hunk sighed. Keith was already drifting off against Shiro’s chest, so the burden of explanation fell to him. 

“It’s not just you. He had a nightmare while you guys were gone, and whatever he dreamt about made the venom go crazy. He was calling for you.”

Shiro visibly paled while Pidge wormed her way closer to Keith and Lance muttered something to himself under his breath. 

“We can’t keep leaving.” Pidge said with a scowl. “It’s making him worse.”

“We don’t really have a choice, Pidge.” Shiro looked like the words physically pained him, but he forced himself to say them anyway. “Trust me, I’m the first person who would want to stay with Keith, but that just isn’t an option. The Galra won’t give us time off.”

“But if this happens everytime we leave, he’s going to get way worse before he gets any better!”

“Guys.” The angry snap came from Keith, who although had his eyes closed, was frowning up at them. “I’m right here and I’m trying to sleep. So, please, shut the fuck up.”

They settled again, but Pidge was clearly still angry, glaring at the ceiling like she could burn a hole through it. Shiro ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, the most worried expression on his face. Lance and Hunk exchanged anxious glances. 

Hunk’s sleep was uneasy that night. 

* * *

They were awoken the next morning by Keith squirming. This isn’t an unusual occurrence, but this time it was accompanied by a small whimper or two that had Pidge stirring. When she’d finally rubbed her eyes clear and retrieved her glasses, she was surprised to see Keith kicking blankets off of himself with flushed cheeks and forehead beaded with sweat. 

“Keith? What’s going on?” 

He turns his eyes to her, unnaturally bright. “Don’t-- don’t feel good.” His breath hitches and he squeezes his eyes shut in a split second grimace. “Hurts. More.”

“How much more?” Pidge can feel his heartbeat in her fingertips where her hand rests on his chest. It was fast and frantic. 

“Five.” 

What the hell? He was surrounded by people, the pain should be getting better, not worse, not to mention the fever. 

“What’s happening?” Shiro asked, finally starting to awaken. Lance and Hunk are stirring too, but they’re taking much longer to get their brains up and running again.

“Keith has a fever.” She doesn’t even need to test that, she can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves like sun baked dirt. “And he says it’s hurting more.” 

A frown creased Shiro’s face, and he sits up to pull Keith’s torso into his lap. The Red Paladin groaned unhappily, but settled down in a few moments, although his brow remained furrowed in discomfort. 

“Will one of you ping Coran, please?” He kept his voice down as he ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, but couldn’t hide the anxious wobble it held. Pidge gulped and scrambled to collect Lances tablet. Keith, bafflingly, is trying to protest. 

“I’m fine, Sh’ro, ‘m sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up--”

“Shhhhh. Let us help you.”

Keith whines, only to cringe at the sound and plant a hand over his mouth to smother it. 

“Hey, man, don’t do that.” Lance’s voice is still sleepy as he shuffles forward to scold Keith, reaching out to touch his shoulder while Pidge fiddled with the tablet. “We’ve told you it’s ok.”

Keith merely shook his head. Shiro bit his lip when his fingers brushed the younger boys skin at the movement. 

“Jeez, you really are burning up.” 

“Coran is on his way.” Pidge reported, squirming just a bit closer. “He should be here in a minute or two.”

_ Hopefully he’ll know what’s going on. _

It’s barely a dobosh later when the Alteans rush into the room, in their pajamas and hair piled messes on their heads. Coran immediately plunges into the nest to press the Altean thermometer against a restless Keith’s temple, while Allura hung back near the door with a grim expression. 

Pidge’s stomach is roiling with anxiety. She hadn’t heard anything from Kolivan about fevers associated with the venom, and judging by the look on Allura’s face, neither had she. 

“One hundred and two.” Coran read out once the thermometer beeped before glancing up at Shiro. “Is that bad for humans?”

Shiro nods, looking paler than a moment before. “Yes. Not hospital bad, but getting there.”

“I’ll go get water and towels.” Hunk squeaked before getting to his feet and stepping from the nest, apparently awake and already anxious. Keith shifted when Hunk walked past his head. He still had a hand over his mouth, but the distressed chirp could be heard nonetheless. 

“It’s ok.” Shiro soothed instantly even as Keith scrunched in on himself from the sound. “He’s coming right back.”

Pidge inched closer to Shiro, reaching out a trembling hand for the one Keith had over his mouth. With some effort she managed to pry it away, twining their hands together, though Keith still pressed his lips closed so hard the skin around them turned white. He shifted in discomfort and Allura gripped handfuls of her nightgown. 

“I’m going to go hail Kolivan.” She reported tersely. “He might know more. Shiro, if you could accompany me, you know more about his condition than I do.”

Shiro looked reluctant, but after a moments hesitation nodded and moved to wiggle out from underneath Keith to stand. Pidge saw Keith’s eyes widen in panic, pupils constricting, and her heart leapt into her throat.

“Wait, Shiro, don’t--”

Keith’s hand flies up to catch Shiro by his human wrist, stopping the Black Paladin in his tracks. 

“No!” He gasped, the word immediately followed by several concerned chirrups and desperate whines. He still cringed at the noises, but the terror swallowing up his eyes seems to be outweighing it for now. “No, please, don’t leave, don’t leave me again.”

They don’t even have time to explain like they did with Hunk, because Keith is delirious and Pidge feels the heat push off of his skin as the fever spikes, and Lance cries out in Spanish at the sight of the black veins soaring over Keith’s cheekbone. Shiro drops back to the floor like a stone but the damage has already been done-- as the horrified team watched, the venom reached Keith’s right eye and began to bleed black into the sclera. At the same time Keith began to thrash, pained whimpers and whines escaping his throat in a cacophony of awful sound. Pidge and Shiro were fairly protected in their positions, but Pidge still had it in her to wince sympathetically when Lance caught a kick to the chest. 

“Coran, get a sedative in him now!” Allura snapped, already spinning on her heel. “I’ll hail Kolivan!”

She nearly ran Hunk over on her way out the door, but he managed to dance out of her way without spilling the bowl of water he was carrying. He blanched when he saw Keith. 

“I was gone for like five minutes, how did this happen?!” He’s already kneeling with his bowl, dipping a hand towel into the water to wring out and place on Keith’s forehead. Pidge cleared her throat with some effort and answered. 

“He thought Shiro was going to leave.”

Keith is staring at the ceiling, one of his eyes completely blacked out, muttering something to himself too quietly for her to hear. When he’d first awoken he’d been fairly coherent, but the sudden fever had sent him spiraling into delirium scarily quickly. He grimaced and spasmed again, a groan of pain escaping through his clenched teeth and nearly dislodging the cooling towel and Hunk’s hand from his forehead. 

Shiro cradled his head in his lap, stricken and guilty, running his fingers frantically through Keith’s hair and murmuring to him. “I’m here, it’s ok, I’m here and I promise I’ll never leave you again, I swear Keith, I swear--” Pidge is horrified to hear his voice crack. Hunk’s hands are trembling and struggling to keep the towel on as Keith tosses his head from side to side, Pidge was clenching Keith’s hand so hard she feared she might break some of the bones in it, and Lance was muttering a low string of what she had to assume were Spanish swear words under his breath. 

“Lance, Pidge.” Hunk is holding out two more hand towels to them. He swallows audibly. “Put these on his wrists, it’ll help.”

The two of them scrambled to complete their new task. Pidge carefully wrapped her damp towel around his wrist, Lance squeezing himself between Keith’s side and the couch to accomplish the same on the other. 

A moment later Coran is rushing back into the room, armed with a prepped syringe. At first he kneels by Keith’s head, lightly pushing it to the side to expose the side of his neck, but Keith’s breath hitches and he starts struggling again. 

“No, no no no, no more.” He moves his head, tries to crane his neck away from Coran’s light touch. “I’m not a spy, I’m not,  _ please _ \--”

“Coran.” Shiro’s voice is choked-- he’s barely holding himself together with twine and duct tape. “Do it somewhere else. Not his neck.”

Coran nods and moves down next to Pidge, poising the needle over his pale forearm, above the rag. He waits for Keith to relax incrementally before sticking it in and pressing the plunger. 

Keith begins to fade almost immediately, eyelids fluttering as he tried to fight it off. He’s still murmuring protests and pleads, insisting that he’s not a spy or a traitor and it’s breaking Pidge’s heart, but the words are beginning to slur and within a dobosh and a half he’s out cold. 

The others sit in trembling silence, and Pidge finally lets her tears fall. 

* * *

“A fever?” Allura hates the look of confusion on Kolivan’s face. It means he doesn’t know what’s happening and if he doesn’t know he can’t help her paladin. “No, fevers are not a usual symptom, nor is escalating pain.”

It had taken her some time, but she’d finally relearned Galra facial expressions. Right now, Kolivan’s frown was introspective and calculating. 

“Have you been following the suggestions I gave you?”

“Yes.” Allura is aware her tone is less respectful than it should be, and if this were any other diplomatic situation she would have checked it. Now she couldn’t care less. “We have him in a comfortable, safe location, and the other paladins spend as much time with him as they possibly can.”

That makes Kolivan pause. “What does that mean, ‘as much as they can,’?” 

Allura shifts anxiously from foot to foot. “Well, the Galra haven’t stopped attacking just because Keith is sick, so there have been several occasions where one or more of the paladins has had to leave to do battle—“ She’s interrupted by Kolivans growl, a reaction she had not expected, but he cuts it off quickly and she assumes it must not have been voluntary. 

“I will send over one of our doctors immediately.” He said in a tense voice. “Don’t let anyone in his pack leave him until they arrive.” With a swipe of his claw he ends the communication, leaving Allura staring at a black screen. 

An Altean curse slips the cage of her teeth, and she stalks her way down to the ship bay to await the Blades doctor. 

* * *

It takes Allura several vargas to return, leaving the paladins to cluster around their sleeping teammate in anxious silence. Coran had opted to stay in the room, sitting near the edge of the nest and studying something intently on his tablet. Pidge is still sniffling every so often, and Lance is rubbing her back with one hand while he holds Keith’s in the other. She can’t bear to look at Shiro; he looks so scared, so guilty, it just shreds her up inside. 

Finally the door to the lounge slides open and all of their heads spring up. Allura stands there, grim and determined, hair disheveled as though she’d been running her hands through it. At her side is a Galra dressed in the standard purple Blade of Marmora uniform, though the mask is down, revealing a frowning reptilian face. She is thin and lithe, with a thick blue tail that lashes behind her as she enters the room. She wastes no time moving to Keith’s side and the paladins scatter before her. 

“Was he sedated?” Her voice is rough and grating the way most Galra voices are. Coran rushes to respond. 

“Yes, he was in quite a bit of pain. It should only last a few vargas more.”

The woman, whom Pidge assumes is a doctor of some sort, hums in the back of her throat and sets about collecting Keith’s vitals. She growls a bit unhappily when she inspects Keith’s blackened eye, but says nothing to them until she has completed her examination. The rest of them are waiting with bated breath when she finally straightens. Her face is unreadable, but the tension in her voice is obvious. 

“This is bad.” She’s scowling at them. “His pack leaving and returning with no indication or pattern has aggravated the venom to dangerous levels. There is a medication we can use; normally I wouldn’t, as we don’t know how it will react with his human genes, but at this point there’s no other choice.”

Pidge can’t say anything. Her throat has closed and her eyes are prickling with guilty tears. Thankfully Shiro is there, and even though he sounds shaken, he always knows what to say. 

“What do you need us to do?”

The doctor frowns and glances around the room skeptically. “This area is decent, but it could be better. The room is too open. Princess--” She looks back at Allura, who hasn’t moved a muscle this entire time. “Is there a smaller room somewhere in this castle with a bed large enough for his entire pack?”

“There is.” Allura answers in a tight voice. 

“We should move him there immediately.” 

“I’ll take him.” Shiro is already slipping into his leader mentality, shoving the fear and guilt to the back of his mind so that he can function. Pidge is unspeakably envious of this ability, because at the moment she probably couldn’t have done much besides cry. “The rest of you gather up the blankets and everything, we’ll bring them with us.”

Five minutes later their group is staggering down the halls behind Allura, Shiro carrying a limp Keith and the rest of them laden down with armfuls of pillows and blankets. Pidge is expecting her to lead them to an unused room in the Castle, one coated in ten millennia of dust and ancient memories, but instead she takes them down a familiar hallway and into her own quarters. 

The bed really is large, draped with blue lights that glow gently and light the room in dim cerulean. The jewelry scattered across the dressing table and the holographic portrait of her parents are the only indications that anyone lives in the room. 

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge hesitate at the door, exchanging anxious looks, unsure if they should accept the offered room. It belongs to the Princess, after all, but Shiro seemingly has no such reservations. He plows forward to lay Keith down on the mattress while the Galra doctor scrutinizes the room. 

“Yes, this will do nicely.” Retrieving a small black box from one of her belt pouches, she moved forward to kneel on the bed by Keith once again, only to pause and glance up at them. 

“This will be dangerous.” She warned as the younger three paladins swarmed the bed with their soft materials. “As I said before, I don’t know for sure how his human genes will react to the medication. And seeing as how he’s unconscious, do any of you have the authority to give consent for his medical treatment?”

“I do.” Shiro answered, crossing his arms. “I was his legal guardian back on Earth. Go ahead and do whatever you need to do.”

Pidge raises her eyebrows, exchanging another look with the boys. She’d known Keith didn’t have parents of course, but she hadn’t been aware that Shiro was actually his guardian. It was an interesting development, and one she’d have to think on. Later. 

Back on the bed the Galra doctor was pressing a button on the side of her little black box, prompting a needle to emerge from the side. Without fuss or fanfare she stuck the needle in Keith’s arm. Pidge is watching closely, but Keith doesn’t even twitch, and the Galra presses another button to dispense the medicine. 

“There. Now,” The doctor rose from the bed, tucking away her box and facing the paladins with a solemn expression. “You four are his pack, correct?”

Four nods answer her. 

“Right. I don’t want any of you leaving this room until the injection site has lost its swelling and discoloration, no matter how long it takes. Am I clear?” 

After seeing the extent of the venoms effects, none of the paladins were in any mood to argue. Allura, though, spoke up.

“What about Voltron? The universe still needs the lions active.”

The doctor turns cold eyes in her direction, staring the Princess down. “Princess Allura, if your paladins do not follow these instructions exactly, your Red Paladin  _ will  _ die, and then there will be no Voltron.”

Allura blanched, and said no more. The doctor continued without a bat of an eye. 

“I’d like to stay in the Castle for at least a few quintants to monitor his condition and administer medication as needed.”

“Of course, I’ll go make you up a room.” Coran said before darting away down the hall. The doctor shot them all one last warning look before following. 

Shiro wasted no time, immediately climbing onto the bed to stretch out on Keith’s right side, pulling him in so that his head rested on his chest and he could run his fingers through his hair. The others followed, arranging themselves around Keith. They did it so carefully, so anxious to make up for their mistakes, and even after they’re settled a heavy silence persists around them. Pidge is all out of tears to cry, but she can hear Hunk and Lance sniffling, and Shiro has his jaw screwed shut with enough force to shatter the bone. 

“So,” She says, purely to get all of their minds off of the fact that they could have killed Keith. “You’re Keith’s guardian?”

Shiro huffed out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sigh. “Well, he was a foster kid, so when he enrolled in the Garrison they transferred guardianship to them. One of the Generals was listed as his emergency contact, but he kept getting into so many fights and having to get patched up that he got sick of it and transferred it to me.”

Lance shifted in their cuddle pile, perking up at the promise of a distracting conversation. “How did you and him meet, anyway?”

“Senior cadets at the Garrison are required to complete a certain number of volunteer credits before they can graduate.” His voice had dropped low, and the soothing tone was smoothing over Pidge’s rough edges. Her tired eyes drooped a little. “One of the options was a kind of Big Brother program, and that’s how I met him. One visit I took him to see the flight simulator, and it wasn’t hard to tell he had potential as a pilot.”

“Obviously.” Lance’s voice lacked it’s usual vitriol. Right now, he only sounded fond. 

“I pulled some strings and got him into the Garrison early, but he was my responsibility.” Shiro chuckled a bit here. “So there I was, not even old enough to drink, trying to corral a thirteen year old spitfire piloting prodigy who wouldn’t stop getting into fights.” 

Shiro pauses, and then even more softly, murmurs, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

There’s so much raw emotion in that one statement, so much vulnerability and love and warmth, that Pidge feels tears pricking at her eyes for the fifth time that day, it seemed like. 

“Did Keith ever tell you how he got kicked out?” Hunk asked, a lilt of amusement hiding in the words. 

“Noooooo. Do I want to know?”

Hunk stifled a laugh and rolled over to face the rest of the group, eyes sparkling. “Oh boy. Ok, so, a month after we heard the news about Kerberos, they wanted the fighter pilots to run a new simulation. It was the Kerberos rescue mission one, you guys remember that don’t you?”

Pidge and Lance mumbled their assent while Shiro stiffened up. 

“They actually…”

“Yeah.” Pidge mumbled into her pillow. “Pissed me off like nobody’s business. You’d think they’d have some taste.”

“I’m assigned to be one of the engineers for the route, so I’m already there getting the simulators set up when the pilots file in, and Keith has this weird look on his face. His team goes first, and he’s barely in the air for five seconds before he crashes the simulator  _ on purpose _ and goes to storm out.”

Shiro lets out a heavy sigh. “Sounds like Keith.”

“But Iverson won’t let him leave. Keith tries to anyway but Iverson grabbed him by the arm--” The whole pile feels Shiro’s flinch at that, “And Keith just whirls around and  _ bam _ ! Socks him right in the eye.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“And the best part is I’m pretty sure he did something permanent, because Iverson hasn’t opened that eye since.”

“Wish I’d gotten to see that.” Lance chimes in wistfully, and Pidge snorts.

“Wish I’d gotten to do it.”

Shiro laughed, and that’s what seems to rouse Keith, who lets out a grumpy sound and rolls to press closer to Shiro. Pidge picks up her head to look and finds Keith blinking blearily at the room, his right eye thankfully clear of black venom. 

“... Did we move?” He mumbled just as a yawn splits his jaw, and Pidge relaxes muscles she hadn’t realized she’d tensed. 

“Yeah, we’re in Allura’s room.” She said, answering before the others as usual. “Kolivan sent a doctor over, and she said it’d be better in here.”

“How are you feeling?” Shiro prodded, and Keith gave a hum of consideration. 

“Better.” Is the answer he settled on. “Doesn’t hurt so much anymore.” 

The group of them release their collectively held breath. 

“That’s good. Go back to sleep, bud, you’re gonna need your rest.”

Keith doesn’t even fight him. Instead he just snuggles down into Shiro’s side and lets his eyes slip closed.

And he starts to purr. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that, folks! Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoyed.


End file.
